Goodbye to Old Times
by paragon326
Summary: One-shot. Post-ME3. Destruction. Shepard survives. Tali'Zorah LI.


Her eyes flashed with that familiar determination to see things through to the end.

"There's no Shepard without Vakarian," she repeated to her turian friend, who in turn responded with that same glint in his eyes.

This was to be the end. The culmination of everything they had worked so hard to build for this final battle was laid out before them in one pathetic scene that could not help but invoke everything from frustration to a mixed sense of relief for those that watched the pair from afar. Soon, it would be over. Vehicles were scattered like so many toys thrown aside by overeager children. Bodies lay lifeless like so many fallen leaves during the harvest months, but not even the cool winds breezing through could give to them the necessary life needed to move on.

She readied her pistol, and he his rifle. As one, like so many times before, they vaulted over the protective wall they used for a momentary haven. Their goal lay straight ahead, and there was not much time left.

"Shepard, on your right!" the turian yelled out, but she did not even need to heed his warning. His rifle lifted as if a natural extension of his arm. The way the gruesome Reaper soldier flew back, it was not a mere kinetic slug, but one of his favored concussive shots. It was unlikely that the blast resulted in a death, but neither of them had time to properly deal with anything that was being thrown at them. They were merely diversions from that heavenly light that pierced through the clouds. For a moment, she believed everything would be alright after all.

An immensely tall figure seemingly materialized before her, arms extended in anticipation of an embrace that would spell the end for her. With practiced ease, she immediately halted, only to pivot upon a heel to whip past a nearby wall to attempt an escape. Her turian friend was likely doing the same in the opposite direction. Splitting up meant they could not be stopped together, giving time to lose the enemy and regroup. She was the one being followed, however, even if any chasing footfalls were drowned out by the furious drumming of her heart. Through the ruined tunnels and streets she ran. Without so much as a full look at the being pursuing her, she unloaded the full clip of her pistol. Each round struck true to what might have been a face, but it did not even slow down the attacker. To her horror as she glanced back, whatever it was had simply removed its face. Not only did it shrug off whatever damage had been inflicted, but it suddenly increased the speed of its pursuit.

Shepard's legs could only carry her so quickly, each futile stride only delaying the inevitable. Soon she felt those long lithe fingers seize her by the waist. Almost effortlessly, she was lifted up into the air. Her pistol dropped. Soon she would join the turian, who was likely already caught. Knowing him, she wistfully mused, he was likely fighting to the bitter end. And this was the end. Her captor opened its mouth, and spoke.

"_Keelah…_ What am _I_ going to do with _you_?"

* * *

That voice, soft and sweet, and obviously filled with exasperation suddenly dispelled the nightmare. The skies were blue, everything beautifully bright. She blinked, and found herself staring at her quarian mother. Her luminescent eyes shown lovingly, but at the same time, conveyed that silent threat that her earlier attack would not go unpunished. In her mother's left hand was her purple visor, covered in adhesive darts.

"C'mon, time for dinner. You can defeat the Reapers tomorrow after your lessons," Tali'Shepard vas Rannoch said with mock irritation that implied that this was a familiar routine.

With a defeated sigh, the young girl adjusted her own grip on her mother, knees finding purchase against the latter's waist and hips while her arms found a secure home around her neck. Along the way, her mother dipped low to recover the dart gun. Together, they began making their way back home.

In the distance, she could already make out two large figures, males. One was human, one was turian. Both were fathers. Each was hunched over, cleaning up the war zone she and her own turian best friend had created earlier.

"A lot easier to clean up than the real thing, eh, Shepard?" Garrus sighed out, though not before he took a moment to 'fly' a replica of theSR-2 Normandy, even going so far as to make few of Tali's trademark imitations of their old ship. It flew past his son's crest, provoking the young turian to bat away at his chiding father before both offered each other a cheeky grin and resumed cleaning.

"True, but I doubt Harbinger would have thought to bring my mom to put such a quick end to things," the savior of the galaxy replied with a dramatic shudder for effect.

Shepard looked towards the pair as they came into earshot, mother and daughter. He smiled warmly, to them, and to himself. Each year, the exhausted look in his eyes dimmed further, replaced by a joy that he would not have ever considered for himself. Garrus was right, all those years ago. Earth was the last time his best friend uttered those words. Never again would it be _just like old times_, and Shepard wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
